


All The Days

by Kristylee



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Cock Worship, Feelings, M/M, PWP, PWP with feelings, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 17:51:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18124544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristylee/pseuds/Kristylee
Summary: Basically 2500 words of cock worship. :))))





	All The Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zombieporno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombieporno/gifts).



It takes two months to heal. Between the threat of infection and Will drinking most of his food through a straw so the stitches Hannibal placed in his cheek don’t pull or rip, it takes until the cold winds start to set in. They run most of the time. It’s surprisingly easy for Hannibal to get them plane tickets on the sly, or a train ticket at two in the morning. Chiyoh sends them supplies so they don’t get caught the way Hannibal did in Italy. They settle in the mountains. Hannibal doesn’t say how he knows the house is abandoned or free or if it belonged to his family or what, but Will wants out of the cold, so he doesn’t complain when Hannibal lights a fire.

It’s been almost three months of running while injured and they are both exhausted. In that time, there has been touches, small and innocuous. Nothing to draw attention to them, but a cuff on the back of the neck or a thumb to a cheek to check for loose thread of stitches. They shared a bed anywhere they went, but the pain of various injuries held them apart like a chaperone. Now, though. Now, with a fire blazing and warmth settling in his hands, Will wonders where they are in this relationship. If what this is could be called a relationship.

For months, Will and Hannibal looked after each other. Watched each other’s backs and killed together, though quietly and only when necessary. Hannibal had touched Will’s throat with a blood slick hand and pressed their foreheads together. After a kill, that’s when Hannibal touched and became intimate the most. Adrenaline pulsing, Will thought. Like the high a runner feels. They fell from a cliff, but they are teetering along a new edge.

“Chiyoh stocked the kitchen,” Hannibal murmurs. “Whiskey?”

Before Will can answer, Hannibal pulls glasses from a cabinet and pours Will an inch and their fingers brush as the tumbler is passed.

“Thank you.”

A moment of silence passes and the drink goes down smooth and emboldens Will.

“What are we?”

“In what terms?”

“Do there have to be terms?” Will asks, opening and closing a fist close to the fire to stay warm. He sips his drink again and says, “What are we?”

Hannibal sits on the sofa next to Will, private and close. He brushes Will’s hair across his forehead, growing back out from a much shorter cut than he is used to.

“In times of great turbulence, Will, in times of utter boredom, and in times of intense loneliness unlike anything I thought I could feel, I thought of you.”

“Right.”

“I want to be what you need me to be. Labels are for children. What I want, Will, is for you to be mine for as long as you will have me.”

Will nods and touches Hannibal’s fingers with his own. “I want the same. I don’t know what this is, but it’s not normal. But I’ve never been normal, I guess.”

Hannibal smiles softly. He takes Will’s glass and sets it behind them on the rug. He cups Will’s face, noses touch briefly before they kiss for what must be the first time, it has to be but Will’s brain is misfiring and just enjoying the feel of Hannibal’s mouth pressed to his own. Will opens and sighs as Hannibal tastes like whiskey and he chases it. 

Every contact between their bodies is hot. 

Hannibal strips Will of his jacket, and Will’s eyes are focused on Hannibal’s mouth, head swimming. 

“I want – There’s so much I want,” Will whispers as Hannibal presses gentle kisses to his cheeks and jawline. 

“Let me, Will. Let me show you what I want.” 

Hannibal slinks to the floor. It should be strange to see such a distinguished man get on his knees for Will, but it just makes him hard.

“You’re not going to -“

“Let me. Will, allow me.”

Allow him, as if it’s a treat, something to be given. Will has no problem giving himself over. He was gone and ready for this the moment Hannibal said “This is all I’ve ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.” Nobody had ever wanted anything for Will other than his safety, whereas Hannibal wanted Will to explore his own dangerous settings, training wheels off.

There’s a bit of a halo of light around Hannibal from the fire behind him. He would make a terrible angel. Will smiles and huffs out a breath when Hannibal slowly works his belt undone and then his button and zipper to his jeans. Will tugs his fingers through Hannibal’s hair and nods with the pleading look Hannibal is giving him, as if he can’t wait any longer for this.

Will is half hard when his boxers are drawn down to his feet and then taken off altogether. Hannibal seems to be holding his breath and Will can’t look away. He knows his cheeks are pink and he wants to cover his eyes but really at the same time he doesn’t want to miss a moment of this.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I’ve ever known, Will,” Hannibal whispers as he curls his fingernails up and down Will’s thighs. He presses his large hands against Will’s knees to have him open wider. It makes Will feel exposed, shamed a little, but so excited. 

“Hannibal, please. Please.” Will’s hands dig into the blanket on the sofa. He tangles his fingers in it, white knuckled.

Hannibal leans forward slightly and just breathes over Will’s cock. One exhale that makes Will’s cock twitch. His knee jumps. 

“Hannibal, please please.”

“Patience, Will. I’ve waited so long for this. I want to do it the way I’ve dreamed of.”

Will hangs his head down and nods. “Yeah, okay.” 

Hannibal places a soft kiss to the head of Will’s cock, sucking slightly. He moans at the taste. Will lets out a wet sigh and waits for something else to happen. Hannibal seems to want to take this slowly, the way he does with his meals. One bite at a time.

There’s a shock of wet heat as Hannibal swallows Will’s cock down all the way to the back of his throat and then swallows around the head. Will trembles and keens at the feeling. Hannibal moans around him, vibrations full on the sensitive head. 

“Fuck, Hannibal, fuck.” Will lifts off the sofa only to have Hannibal press him back down with bruising fingers on his hips, and comes back up, slowly, torturously, tongue slurping all the way up. 

“You taste unlike anything I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting, Will.”

Precum leaks from the head and Hannibal licks it away with the flat of his tongue. He grins like a cat with the cream and massages the underside of Will’s cock head with his thumbs and forefingers, down and up and down again, paced with the beat of his own heart. With each stroke around the head, Will moans and babbles for more, please, please Hannibal.

Touches as light as caresses, and Will chokes and heaves out a breath as Hannibal strokes him tight with a full fist and leisurely pulls, watching between his own hand and Will’s face. They make eye contact and Hannibal being unabashed holds their eyes as he lowers his head to trace Will’s balls with his tongue. He scoots Will to the edge of the sofa so his ass hangs off the edge. Slick and smooth and entirely too easy, Hannibal spreads Will’s cheeks and spits into his hole.

“Fuck, Hannibal,” Will moans out shocked and so pleased. He feels cherished if not a little degraded. 

Ex-girlfriends, even guys he used to fuck around with didn’t spit inside of him, or lick his asshole until he almost screamed. 

“Hannibal, you have to stop, I’m. Shit. I’m gonna –“ Will tries to push Hannibal away before he comes all over his face and hair, but the man won’t move.

“Will, you may,” Hannibal says rushed, delighted like he can’t wait to be a mess for Will. He strokes Will and sucks the head of his cock hard, almost bruising and that’s it. Will comes and Hannibal pulls back so that it catches on his mouth and cheek and he basks in it as Will basks in his own release. 

Hannibal, the man who uses a napkin after every bite at dinner revels in Will’s come on his face, rubs between his legs, licking the mess from his lips. Will marvels. 

“You’re a mess.”

“I know,” Hannibal whispers with his eyes closed. “I want you to touch me, Will.”

Will strips himself of his sweater and t-shirt, no time to waste. He puts his palms on Hannibal’s shoulders to guide him to lie on the floor. Will kisses Hannibal hard, wipes the mess from Hannibal’s cheeks and pushes them into his mouth, past sharp teeth.

There is some initial fumbling as they get Hannibal’s pants around his ankles, which is very high school, Will thinks, but it works and his cock is hard and leaking and for the first time in his life Will’s mouth waters at the sight of his partner.

“Fuck. Hannibal, I –“

Will kisses Hannibal again, fiercely with everything in him. He wants to laugh or cry, but what he wants most is to make Hannibal feel good. For the fall they took and survived mean something. For the recovery it took, healing together and growing together. Killing together without remorse. Will is different now, because of Hannibal. He wants to show that change in any way he can. 

“I’m overthinking,” Will says quietly. He runs his fingers through Hannibal’s hair, gripping at the ends. “But the thought comes back to um. Wanting to suck your cock?” 

They laugh and Will rests his head on Hannibal’s chest. He listens to his heart beat. He is happy, content here with a murderer in ways he has never been in his life. 

“Let me suck you off, Hannibal.” Will’s voice is soft but sure. If he and Hannibal are together, he wants to make the most of it before somehow, someway, they get caught. 

Will kisses, bites his way down Hannibal’s chest, nervous and excited for something he hasn’t done in at least ten years. Hannibal’s body is strong, even with all its scars, bullet wounds. Will kisses the exit wound from the bullet Francis Dolarhyde left that almost killed him. The infection there lasted for weeks. Will didn’t know if Hannibal would make it. But here he lies now, spread on the rug before the fire, trembling and alive, flushed and a little sweaty. Will wants him more than anything.

Hannibal’s cock is wet at the tip, leaking and it amazes Will that he turned Hannibal on just by letting him touch him, taste him. He lowers his head to lap the wetness at the tip and Hannibal exhales as if climbing into a warm bath. Will strokes evenly amazed at the movement of foreskin, nothing he hasn’t seen before, but this is Hannibal. This is different somehow. More. More exhilarating. With each pass of his hand, Will tweaks Hannibal’s nipples, encouraged to touch more and more as Hannibal becomes more vocal, cursing in something that sounds foreign, that rolls heavy on his tongue. 

“What are you saying?”

“I said, ‘Mother of God, your hands feel of sin.’”

“You just worshipped my cock, Hannibal, I’m – I want to make you feel good.” Will watches his fist around Hannibal’s length, the head red, flushed, disappearing and reappearing between his fingers. He bends down to take as much as he can into his mouth, moans around Hannibal, and the sounds they make run together, animal and guttural. 

Will focuses on relaxing his throat, twisting his wrist on what his tongue can’t reach. It feels unlike anything he’s ever done. He is powerful like when he kills, he is vulnerable against a cannibal, he is sure of himself more than ever when Hannibal grips his hair and comes down his throat. 

It's perfect. 

Will swallows what he can and catches his breath, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He laughs a little bit giddy with the high of his own orgasm and now with Hannibal’s. 

“You taste sweet,” Will says almost confused. “Any guy I’ve been with usually didn’t taste as sweet as you.”

Hannibal sits up and kisses Will as if to see for himself at his own personal flavor. He rakes his fingers down Will’s throat as he swallows again making him shiver. 

“I believe there is a shower upstairs,” Hannibal says against Will’s lips. “Allow me to take care of you, Will. We are safe here. We could… make a life here.”

Will nods. This could be everything. For both of them.


End file.
